I'm Sorry, I Love You
by Skyler99
Summary: If your heart had a voice, what would it say? Will Romano ever find the answer to that question?  Spain x Romano. Real names used.
1. Love and Longing

**Author's Note # 1: **A friend of mine wanted to see me try my hand at writing a yaoi fic, so I decided to humor her.

I'm a guy, by the way, but I have absolutely nothing against yaoi or the people who support it. You fan girls can spread the love all you want, but just be careful of them haters, 'kay? XD

This was harder than I thought (not to mention the awkward moments when you stop and think "Did I really just write that?"). But it's good for writing experience.

Translations for the foreign words and phrases will be at the bottom. Sorry if I got any of them wrong! Spanish is not my native tongue, and neither is Italian nor English.

Some fluffy, dramatic SpaMano love right here folks. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>PART 1<strong>: Love and Longing

"Fuck off, sunlight! Don't... wake me up... just yet," Lovino mumbled as the first few rays of the morning caressed his face. He winced back under the covers and groaned in protest. He had been rudely interrupted from a blissful dream—one involving a dense but very charismatic Spaniard.

_It's not fair that he's as clueless as he is sexy._

How many nights have it been already? Too many to count, at the very least. Too many nights where his brown-haired "boss" would steal away into the deepest recesses of his mind and own it like the _conquistador_ he once was. He wasn't complaining, but Lovino hated knowing dreams were meant to remain as dreams. He hated it each time his heart would sprout wings and soar to the zenith of happiness because he knew those wings would no sooner be ripped apart by the painful truth. He'd slowly, excruciatingly plummet back to reality, realizing the object of his affection could never hold any in return.

"Antonio..." he called out softly, longingly.

"Yes, Lovi?"

"Wha-? Tonio?" He shot up in great surprise and found the man he was calling out to standing by the doorway, a bewildered expression adorning his features. "What are you doing in my room, you bastard?"

"The door was unlocked, so I let myself in. Breakfast is almost ready." Antonio's emerald eyes fell upon the Italian's uncharacteristically timid face. The flustered boy shifted restlessly, not wanting to meet the Spaniard's worried gaze. There was something about his appearance that was almost... cute. But Antonio also knew something was troubling his little tomato. "Lovi, are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Now get out of my room, bastard!"

Antonio knew better than to argue with Lovino when he was like that. He spun on his heels and started out the door. "Don't take too long. The food will get cold."

"Yeah, yeah, go away already," Lovino griped, and he slammed the door after the Spaniard. "_Seccante_!" That single word escaped the agitated boy's mouth as he fell back against the wall and let out a sigh of frustration.

_Damn heartbeat, slow down! Damn fingers, stop trembling! Damn it! Damn it! Damn you, Tonio! Isn't it enough that you invade the privacy of my dreams? You have to invade my room, too?_

Lovino could not help but feel a pang of regret. Antonio was there; right there in his bedroom. It would have been a simple feat to pull the unsuspecting man into a passionate embrace as they gently crash onto the soft mattress. It would have been even easier to trap him in a fort of sheets and shower him with affection. But that, also, would have been as simple as throwing whatever relationship they had out the window. That, Lovino decided, was something he could not live with.

Several minutes later, a still slightly flushed Italian (who was still in his pyjamas) entered the dining room. He was greeted by the sight of a green-eyed _muchacho_ sporting a black tank top and gray corduroy pants. Antonio was bobbing up and down, shaking his hips to the tune that was playing from the countertop radio. He seemed completely oblivious of Lovino, who had been noticing how the Spaniard's tight pants accentuated his ample posterior.

_Fuck this. How long do I plan on staring at his ass? _

"_Aunque corras, te escondas, no puedes escapar... _Oh, Lovi! I didn't know you were already here. Have a seat."

"No. Don't mind me, tomato bastard. Just sing your heart out while I starve to death!"

"Sorry 'bout that Lovi! Here, I made _magdalenas _and _churros_."

"Thanks, I guess." Lovino almost flinched off his seat when Antonio drew ever so close to him and laid down a plate of those mouth-watering, lemon-flavored pastries and those sweet, sugary sticks.

"Care for some _café con leche_?

"Uh... sure." The usually brash boy felt uneasiness take hold of him. There he was, inches away from the lean but burly torso he had known for so long. He wanted to reach out and feel the warmth of every familiar muscle on his hand, but felt himself being doused with water as he fought off the urge. He would never live the day when he finally made it clear to Antonio just how much he wanted him.

"Lovi... Lovi!"

"H-Huh? What? What is it bastard?"

"You've been spacing out a lot lately. You sure you're okay?" Antonio gently placed his hand on the boy's forehead, causing the latter to turn a pale shade of red. "You don't seem to have a fever, but you looked flushed. Maybe Boss should feed you!"

"I don't need an airhead like you stuffing food in my mouth like I'm a thumb-sucking toddler."

"But Lovi... I used to feed you all the time."

Antonio's childlike intonation and half-pouting expression sent sparks coursing through the Italian. "When I was almost as small as your brain! That was a long time ago," Lovino retorted, trying to cover up his shaky voice with a not-so-convincing bravado. Remembering how Antonio treated him like a younger brother merely added to the pain.

_A brother... A henchman... A friend... That's all I'll ever be._

"Lovi, why are you crying?"

"Crying? Me?" wondered the Italian, lightly trailing a finger across his cheek.

_Wet?_ _Why am I..._

His thoughts trailed off as he felt Antonio's muscular arms encircle him. It was just as he remembered—warm like the afternoon sun and drenched with the scent of summer. As much as he wanted to stay in that moment forever, he gently pushed the Spaniard away.

"Why are you hugging me all of a sudden, you pervert?" He tried to hide his face, which had turned as red as ripe tomato, but failed miserably.

"But Lovi... Boss is worried about you! You need some cheering up!"

"Wha-? Wait, don't tell me..."

"Fusososo~" It was Antonio's all-too-familar charm for cheering people up. Lovino cringed a little. He always hated it when Antonio performed that charm; it was embarrassing. But he could not deny there was something adorable about his "boss" waving his arms around while making weird sounds. A tiny smile played on his lips, but it barely lasted a second.

"Damn! Would you cut that out?" Lovino snapped.

"Huh? This always made you smile when you were..." He stopped as his eyes beheld the boy glaring daggers at him. As much as Antonio failed to read the atmosphere majority of the time, he felt a sense of hurt seeing Lovino look at him like that. He could not remember doing anything to make him that upset.

"Fuck that! I'm not a kid anymore, Tonio. You need to get with the times; grow up already! We both know things can't stay like that forever. We've... changed. Well, I don't know about you, but I certainly have." The irate Italian rose with a grunt and headed for the staircase. His heavy, furious footfall seemed to resound throughout the entire house. He could hear Antonio calling out to him from the dining room.

"Lovi! What about breakfast? And you said you were going to help me in the field later. Lovi!"

"Know what? I don't care what you do or where you go. Just leave me alone!"

The loud slamming of his bedroom door was the last sound Antonio heard from the boy. The Spaniard's heart grew heavy with concern—so heavy that he feared it might fall out of his chest. He sunk into a chair and buried his face in his hands. "Mi pequeño tomate... Lovino..."

Inside his room, Lovino was slumped on the floor with his head resting on the edge of the bed. He had a blank, almost soulless, expression on his face. He wanted to punch himself, but he figured the pain in his heart was enough of a punishment.

_Why? When I want to tell him something, I end up saying something else. When I want to compliment him, I end up with an insult. It's unfair... My heart has no voice; my heart has no will._

A single sob escaped his mouth, and the rest were muffled in the sheets.

**TO BE CONTINUED...**

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><p><strong>Translations:<strong>

_Conquistador _(Spanish) – conqueror

_Seccante _(Italian) – bothersome

_Muchacho_ (Spanish) – young man

_Aunque corras, te escondas, no puedes escapar _(Spanish) – okay, this is actually from Enrique Iglesias' song "Escapar"; I think it means "You can run, you can hide, but you can't escape" or something like that. Sorry, I fail. T.T (Can someone confirm this?)

_Mi pequeño tomate_ (Spanish) - my little tomato

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><p><strong>Author's Note # 2:<strong> How did you guys find the first part? Leave a review if it's not too much trouble. Please? Hahaha. XD

Sorry for giving Romano too much of a sappy side, but it's nice to see a little change in character every now and then. Wouldn't you agree?

Got any ideas for the second part? Got creative criticisms you're itchin' to give me? Do not hesitate for a second. I would love to hear from you!

(Don't know if I'll ever write a fic like this again. Perhaps you can convince me otherwise? LOL)


	2. Love and Liaison

**Author's Note # 1: **Thank you to all the wonderful people who read, reviewed, faved, and/or alerted. I love you all for that!

Since my friend has never watched Hetalia, I wrote this chapter to help her get to know the two main characters, especially Lovi, better. (The challenge was to write a yaoi fic; she didn't say there was a specific anime I should use. And this is the only anime I've watched which was, in a sense, _love between boys_.)

School is really killing me. Feels like everything I do is wrong. That frustration is probably the reason why this part is kinda sad and serious. :(

**WARNING:** You might find this a bit confusing, so please make sure to read all the way to the end of the chapter. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>PART 2:<strong> Love and Liaison

Flowers... as far as the eye can see. Carnations, to be precise. Carnations tainted with blood. It was a field fit for a nightmare. Maybe it was, or maybe it wasn't; Lovino did not care. He was too nauseated to even curse out loud. The scent of the crimson garden sickened him to the very core. How he ever wound up in such a place was beyond him. He just wanted to get out.

_Okay, you can do this! You're fucking Lovino Vargas. There's nothing you can't do!_

That did not reassure him as much as he hoped it would. He was an unreliable coward and _everyone_ knew that. _He_ knew that. But he always had Antonio to rely on, so he never really saw it as a liability. More of an asset. Or was it? Yes, it was enough of a reason to constantly have the Spaniard by his side, but always being around the _papi chulo _proved to be rather… heartbreaking. He was shown the friendliest of all friendliness, but that was just it; that word. _Friend._ If heartache had a name, it would be _friendship_. It was good, but it was not enough. Lovino had this longing, this desire, this… _hunger_ that friendship could not sate.

_If I take it too far, I'd just end up making things bad for both of us. It's… okay to just be like this. Sure, I might be suffering, but at least Tonio's happy. Right? Right? Someone, anyone, please tell me I'm right! Damn! I'm talking to myself again. Get it together, Lovino!_

Ever the klutz, Lovino was shaken from his internal conflict when his face met the hard earth. He wondered if it was even possible to stumble over thin air. Aware of just how much coordination he had, he decided that it _was_ possible given that the person was Italian and named either Lovino or Feliciano. But he could have sworn he tripped on something. Something soft and squishy. Something familiar.

Suddenly being reminded of the pungent odor filling the air, Lovino held back the impulse to shout a chain of profanities as his stomach turned. Opening his mouth would only cause him to vomit, he decided. Nausea or no nausea, though, he was bent on finding out what made him do a little "stunt" like that. He opened his eyes, which were shut and near tears, but soon regretted it. Those same eyes grew wide with horror, and his jaw learned how to do a dramatic, slow-motion drop.

"W-What… the… h-hell?"

He blinked a few times (and a few times more) just to see if his eyes were playing tricks on him.

When the veracity sunk in, he quickly covered his mouth and fought off the urge to scream. The smell of blood had become more intense, probably because he was hunched right next to a fresh source. Yes, a fresh _source_. Tanned skin, muscular physique, above average height—these were some descriptions you could use on the corpse. And if there was ever an accurate, concrete example of what sadness looked like, his face would be it. His lonely emerald eyes almost beckoned you to his side, telling you he yearned for comfort. But what really ate away at Lovino's heart was the fact that he _knew_ those heartrending eyes, that sad face, that… lean, lifeless body. Yes, he knew the man as Antonio Fernandez Carriedo.

"This is… a joke, right? Yeah, it has to be. You're awake, you bastard, and you're not fooling anyone with that lousy acting. I have to admit, that blood was fucking convincing. But you can stop now. You got me… so stop now! _Sbrigati_! Get up already, you goddamn…" No amount of nudging, pleading, or cursing prompted a reaction. By that time, Antonio's "acting" was starting to become rather believable.

Lovino lifted the man into a sitting position, letting Antonio's head rest on his shoulder while he supported the rest of his upper body. He intertwined his trembling fingers with the Spaniard's and used his other hand to gently stroke his hair. The young Italian felt like he was slowly falling to pieces. He finally got over the awkwardness of getting that close to his "boss", but that was only because remorse had replaced his unease. The tears freely trailed down his cheeks, and occasional snivels escaped his lips. He buried his face in Antonio's shoulder, seeking even a little warmth to ease his pain. He found none. Antonio's body was cold, _dead_ cold.

"Last chance, _bastardo_. You better wake up or I'll… I'll… Antonio!"

Lovino's emotional façade dissolved, and he found himself hugging the lifeless form, clinging to him like there was no tomorrow. Perhaps there _was_ no tomorrow, for Lovino at least. Antonio was always there; Lovino had no life beyond the Spaniard. Ever since he was a child, _jefe_ had taken care of him. Losing his grandfather and having his younger brother taken by Roderich had left him emotionally scarred. Antonio was patient enough to see him through the healing process, despite the man's own poverty issues, and the boy would forever be grateful for that. But what now? Antonio was gone. Lovino was alone… again.

"I told you I didn't care what you did or where you went, but… this is just fucked up! I didn't mean that! I didn't want you to die and go to heaven, you stupid… Gah! I hate you! I absolutely… love you. But you'll never know that, will you? 'Cause you were stupid enough to die before I had the chance to tell you. And I was stupid enough to wait until you were dead to tell you. Man, I fucking hate this! I wanna be with you so badly, but I'm too much of a coward to kill myself, so... _mi dispiace_, Tonio…"

Either the planet was rotating dangerously fast, or Lovi's mind was reeling. The world around him spiraled until everything went black. Then, a sharp pain pierced his head, like a bullet was shot in his brain. Lovino groaned in pain as he struggled to open his eyes.

_Weird. I don't remember the ceiling being that high… What? Ceiling?_

It took a while for the half-dazed Italian to put two and two together. He was in his room. He cried himself back to sleep after his earlier "skirmish" with Antonio. He just had a dream (or a nightmare). He fell off the bed, explaining the pain in his head and his sore back. He was lying on the floor, explaining why the ceiling looked so high up. After a few minutes of pondering, he finally arrived at those conclusions.

_Can't I dream of anything except that sexy bastard?_

**TO BE CONTINUED…**

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><p><strong>Translations:<strong>

_Papi chulo _(Spanish) – pretty boy/hot boy (or "hunk", if you will)

_Sbrigati _(Italian) – Hurry up

_Bastardo _(Italian) – bastard

_Jefe _(Spanish) – boss

_Mi dispiace _(Italian) – I'm sorry

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><p><strong>Author's Note # 2: <strong>Did you like it? Hate it? Should I be punished for killing off Spain in Lovi's dream? Please let me know.

QUICK QUESTION: Where's the most romantic place for a confession? I was thinking of a bedroom, but that's too cliché. (And that would inevitably lead to sex, which I have zero experience in writing.) If you guys have any ideas, include it in your reviews or PM me. Your ideas are priceless, so I would really be grateful for it.

The next part's gonna have other characters. Lovi and Tonio are fine, but I need to make this a little more interesting. XD


	3. Love and La Vida Loca

**Author's Note # 1: **This turned out to be such a senseless chapter. XD

Oh, the suggestions you gave were awesome! Keep 'em coming (if you still got some). Wish I could confess somewhere like that to a girl someday. ***tries to hide the stupid lovey-dovey expression on his face*** Uh... yeah... back to the story.

See how adorably stubborn and clueless a lovesick Lovino can be. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>PART 3<strong>: Love and _La Vida Loca_

The beauty of nature was it knew when to add a dramatic atmosphere. And what better to make things more theatrical than rain? It was quite a downpour, but Lovino had stubbornly opted to ignore the umbrella hanging by the doorway and bolt out of the house. He had woken up from a rather unpleasant dream—blood-stained flowers, a lifeless Spaniard, a tear-jerking confession—and immediately scrambled to find his _jefe_. The house was completely Tonio-free though, and a paranoid Italian impulsively decided that Antonio had taken his words seriously. After all, he had asked to be left alone.

_What if he got fed up with my personality? What if he decided to leave me? Wait, it's his house. Why would he...? Oh no, then something bad must have happened to the idiot! Maybe that dream was trying to tell me something._

The streets were filled with people who either wondered why a young boy was running around in the rain looking like he just lost everything he held dear in his life, or ridiculed him in their thoughts for going out without an umbrella and scampering hither and thither like one gone mad. People could be compassionate. People could be heartless. That was life, and Lovino could care less about them. He was too busy scanning the faces he passed, looking for any resemblance to a Spanish "airhead" he knew so well, and all the while contemplating what could have happened to him.

_That damn Ivan must have finally decided to try and make Antonio... o-one with him. Or maybe that Dutch bastard from Netherlands. No, maybe it was Arthur. Fuck! Whoever it was, I'm gonna go Mafioso on his sorry ass! Or maybe not. But I'm sure as hell gonna do something! I just hope it isn't crying as I beg for my life..._

One minute he was running and the next he was reeling from the pain of a head-on collision. His expression quickly turned into a scowl when he saw who the "roadblock" was. That scowl only deepened when he heard its familiar yet _very_ irritating laughter. The man, on the other hand, simply straightened his glasses and smiled whimsically, without the slightest suggestion of being hurt from the impact. Lovino glowered at him with hate-filled eyes—his notorious death glare. There were a number of people he detested, explaining his lack of friends, and the man before him was one of those people.

"Aren't you going to apologize?" Lovino snapped.

"Huh? You were the one who ran into me." The bespectacled man's nonchalant voice and carefree appearance annoyed the already fuming Italian even more.

"Whatever, you fat moron. Why are you even in Spain? Shouldn't you be stuffing your mouth with junk food back in America?"

"And shouldn't you be stuffing yourself with pasta in Italy?" a stern voice retorted from behind.

Lovino spun around and was met by another familiar face. Blond hair, green eyes, eyebrows that made a phonebook look shamefully thin—a very hated figure during Antonio's days as a pirate. Yes, it was the Englishman whose infamous scones could bring down the most venomous snakes in record time. And he was holding quite the feminine parasol.

"I like it here, so you and your freakish eyebrows can shut the fuck up!" Remembering that Antonio was in trouble and he was a primary suspect, Lovino grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and brought their faces closer. "Where's Tonio? What did you do to him? Speak up, you tea-sucking bastard!"

Arthur was taken aback. He knew Lovino as a weak and whiny kid who would run away at the very first sign of danger. But here he was now, rattling the senses out of him. He now knew that the kid could actually learn to momentarily forget his cowardice so long as a certain Antonio Fernandez Carriedo was concerned. And so he just stood there, mouth wide open, as the Italian continued to "manhandle" him.

Seeing as how the Brit had temporarily lost his wits, Alfred stepped forward to try and separate the two. "Stop! The hero knows how we can solve this problem." He reched into the bag he was carrying and pulled out a hamburger. "With this!"

Lovino's jaw dropped and he lost his grip. "What the fuck? How's that supposed to help?"

The American's foolish display seemed to snap Arthur back to reality. "Alfred, you daft git! Stay out of this," hissed the disgruntled gentleman as he fixed his shirt. "And you, you uncouth Italian, will do well to know that I haven't even seen that bloody Spaniard since we arrived."

"Then why, in blazing fuck, are you here?"

Arthur's face instantly turned red. His eyes shifted restlessly and his parasol shook noticeably. "Well, we're... um... You see... How should I put this?"

"Artie and I are on a date!" Alfred declared. He received a hard slap on the back of the head from a very flustered Englishman.

"Y-Yes... What he said. I believe it's my turn to ask a question, is it not?"

"You're just trying to change the subject, eyebrows," Lovino scoffed, "but sure, go ahead."

"Why in the world are you running around looking for Antonio?"

"T-that's n-none of your b-business! Fuck, am I s-shivering?" His desire to find Antonio had brought a surge of adrenaline that numbed his senses for a while, but now that his momentum had died down, he had become painfully aware of the biting cold.

"That's what you get for playing in the rain without an umbrella," Arthur sneered.

"I-It's better than being c-caught with that testosterone-killing l-lampshade of yours, s-so put a sock in it!"

"Oh," Alfred blurted out, "Artie's going to do that real soon. When we get to the hotel, I'm shoving my supersized beef down his throat and..."

"Alfred! He said _sock_, not co-" The gentleman's face was burning up so much that he failed to finish his statement.

"W-Whatever, you s-sick lovebirds. I d-don't have time for t-this."

"Here, you might need this." Alfred had taken off his large jacket and offered it to the freezing Italian. His expression of pure innocence and idiocy almost made Lovino forget how much he loathed him.

"I-I guess having a burger for a b-brain isn't all that b-bad. But I still h-hate you, got it?" With that, he took up the offer and stormed off to continue his search.

Alfred's jacket _did_ help... a little. Lovino was already drenched when he draped it over his body, so it was to be expected. But that scanty warmth was enough to keep him going. That, and Lovino's playful imagination. Alfred had mentioned something about going to a hotel with his scone-loving boyfriend and "shoving his supersized beef down his throat." The curious boy found himself imagining what that would look like. Then the scene quickly shifted to Antonio's bedroom where an eager and very much uncovered Spaniard was lying on the bed, slyly inviting him to his side. Lovino saw himself swallow dryly, gaping at a certain part of Antonio's seemingly perfect anatomy.

_Antonio's in trouble, probably hurt, and I'm fantasizing about him? Come on, Lovino. That's just fucked up._

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><p>The sun had already set when Lovino lugged his tired, sodden body back to Antonio's house. He peeled off every article of clothing till he was down to just his boxers. He tossed Alfred's jacket onto the couch and placed the rest of his clothes in a hamper. His stomach sounded like a blender desperately trying to puree a chunk of quartz, and then he suddenly remembered how his earlier outburst had cost him breakfast.<p>

_Oh great! Just... fucking great. I'm cold, tired, hungry, and still Antonio-less. This can't get worse, can it?_

Just as he was about to make his way up to his bedroom, he caught a whiff of an enticing aroma coming from the kitchen—a strangely familiar aroma.

_That smells like... the sauce I whip up every time I make pasta. But..._

He cautiously tiptoed to the kitchen where an unexpected prospect greeted him. Even from behind, there was no mistaking that perfectly-sculpted physique. And that voice, muttering lyrics from what sounded like Ricky Martin's "Livin'_ la Vida Loca_", was too soothing to be anyone else. Lovino almost choked on his own words as he called out to him.

"A-Antonio?"

The man casually turned around, and Lovino's heart skipped a beat. Or maybe two. The Spaniard's face was beaming with life, and his emerald eyes lit up at the sight of the bewildered boy. He opened his mouth to say something, but quickly closed it and eyed the boy from head to toe.

"My little Lovi, why are you all wet... and naked?" His voice was about as flat as possible, which provoked a glare from an irate Lovino.

"Wha-? Could you sound more indifferent? It's your fucking fault I'm like this! And did you just call me 'your little Lovi'? What's up with... Hey, wait! T-Tonio! What the fuck are you...?"

A shrill gasp left his mouth as he found himself being encircled by two muscular arms. He suddenly became aware of his "lack of clothing" and shuddered at the sensation of skin against skin. Antonio nuzzled his face in his hair, grazing that highly-sensitive curl ever so lightly but still sending jolts of lightning coursing through his being. He lost all the reprimanding words he had mentally prepared, only to be replaced by a soft, almost breathless "Chigi~", and all the blood in his body seemed to flow into his face.

_Oh fuck! These traitorous blushing cheeks of mine are annoying as hell. And I'm such a mega fag for enjoying this so much!_

"I don't know how it's my fault, but you're so cute right now, Lovi! Boss just wants to hug you."

"S-Shut the fuck up! W-Where did you go? I woke up and... Well, you were gone, so I spent all day looking for you. Then I come back and you're here? You... You bastard!"

"So that's why you're like this?" Antonio asked, lifting his head to peer down at a flustered Lovino but still maintaining his hold on the boy.

"Y-Yeah! Why else would I be soaking wet? And could you stop hugging me, you pervert?"

"I can't stop now, Lovi. Not when you're overloading me with your cuteness! But you shouldn't have done that, and you should really bring an umbrella when you go out. I just went to the store to pick up a few ingredients."

"Ingredients? What? I waited for over two fucking hours and you didn't show up! That's why I got all... w-worried and... stuff."

"You wouldn't believe the line!" Antonio exclaimed, finally breaking the hug. "And I passed by a pet shop where they had the cutest turtles _ever_. I just lost track of time when I started staring at them. But it's so nice to hear that you were worried about me, my cute little Lovi."

"Ugh! Stop calling me cutesy names like that! I'm not a little girl, you know. And it figures you'd be stupid enough to get distracted by a bunch of slowpokes in a shell."

"Now, Lovi, don't be mean to the turtles," the Spaniard said, lightly pinching the boy's cheeks. "I actually bought one. Say hello to Fabio!" A small head suddenly peeped from the pocket of Antonio's shirt. His tiny, beady eyes were fixed at the scowling Italian.

"I... can't believe I didn't notice that. Geez, Antonio. Another stupid-looking guy with a Spanish name? As if one wasn't enough."

"Want to play with him while I finish the pasta?" cooed the Spaniard.

"No way I'm touching that! And _why_ are you making pasta? You always cook Spanish dishes. _Always_."

"Well, I figured you got mad at me earlier because you didn't like the breakfast I made. So I decided to cook something I knew you'd like to make it up to you. Oh yeah, hope you don't mind me borrowing your cookbook."

"I don't mind but... Y-You thought I was mad... about the food? You idiot! I was... I... Uh..." He could feel his cheeks becoming warm again prompting him to avoid eye contact. "I need to put some clothes on! So yeah, call me when dinner's ready... 'kay?" he softly mumbled then made a dash for his room afterwards.

_I wasn't mad about the food, and I certainly wasn't mad at you. I was... mad at myself for being so afraid. I'm afraid of being rejected by you, idiot. Now, I wish you were psychic enough to know this._

In the kitchen, Antonio shook his head and smiled at the tiny reptile now snugly resting on his hand. "Don't worry, Fabio; he likes you! He's just a little shy. He _was_ naked after all."

**TO BE CONTINUED...**

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><p><strong>Translations:<strong>

_La Vida Loca_ (Spanish) – the crazy life

_Mafioso _(Italian) – a member of an Italian mafia clan

Daft (chiefly British) – stupid

Git (chiefly British) – a silly, incompetent, stupid, annoying, senile elderly or childish person

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><p><strong>Author's Note # 2: <strong>I think I kinda messed up with the whole US x UK thing back there. Sorry to all the supporters of that pairing. Major fail on my part. ***nervous laugh***

(And yes, I did happen to hear that song while typing this chapter, and I sorta felt compelled to include it. ^^)


	4. Love and Leaps of Faith

**Author's Note # 1: **Wow, thank you to everyone who's been supporting this story. You guys beat Prussia on the awesomeness factor for that! And I finally found a way to make use of most (if not all) of your ideas. But if you still got some, go ahead! XD

Lovi might call it a casual outing, but Tonio and I call it a date. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>PART 4: <strong>Love and Leaps of Fate

_I always thought I'd wind up back in Antonio's bed under... different circumstances._

Lovino turned his attention to the sleeping Spaniard coiled around his torso. Antonio had insisted that he slept in his bed that night, and there was no persuading him otherwise. There was also no denying that the Italian had secretly enjoyed that prospect.

"_I have my own room you know."_

"_But you've been out in the rain all day. Boss is worried about you, Lovi. You might have caught a cold or something."_

"_Isn't that all the more reason for me to sleep in _my_ room? If I slept with you, you'd catch it too. Not saying I'm sick or anything."_

"_Please Lovi? I wanna be right there to take care of you. It's the least I can do after I put you through all that."_

"_Geez, you've been more annoying and clingy since I came back. Fine! I'll sleep in your goddamn room tonight, you bastard."_

Lovino might have yielded to that request a tad bit too quickly, but there was no turning back. He was there, lying comfortably on Antonio's bed while his "boss" innocently snuggled him. There was something very nostalgic about that kind of setting. Lovino recalled how he would always find himself sneaking into Antonio's bed when he was a child whenever he found it hard to sleep at night. Whether the boy was frightened, sad, or just seeking company, Antonio would always gladly welcome him even if that meant not getting a wink's rest himself. Even with simple deeds like that, Antonio had done a great deal for him, and the Spaniard's subtle selflessness was one of the things that captivated Lovino the most.

_Hear that Antonio? Tik-tok~ That's me running out of time. _

Lovino carefully wiggled his way out of Antonio's embrace and longingly caressed the sleeping man's cheek.

"I need to make a quick phone call. Just stay there and stay lovable, okay?"

"Don't ever... leave me... my dear Lovi," mumbled Antonio.

The Italian's face turned red at that unconscious request. "You... You say the dumbest things when you're dreaming. And who told you it was alright to fucking dream about me?"

_But I have no right to be mad. I mean, I dream about you all the time..._

Lovino sheepishly made his way down the stairs and to the living room where the nearest telephone was. Picking up the receiver, he began to wonder if he was doing the right thing. Somewhere within the monotony that was the dial tone, he heard a faint voice urging him on. And so, he dialled the number he thought he had forgotten.

"H-Hello?" said the half-yawning voice on the other side of the line.

"Uh, yeah. Hey Feli, it's me..."

"Ve~ _Fratello?_ I can't believe you actually called me! It's been so long. But do you know how late it is or is the time zone different there in Spain?"

"I know it's late, you German-worshipping dumbass! Spain and Italy aren't _that_ far apart."

"Ve~ I'm sorry _Fratello! _Please don't yell at me."

"Whatever. Hey, Feli... I know it's late and stuff but I really need your help with something."

_Yeah, I'm doing this 'cause I don't want to wake up one day and find that that nightmare had become reality. I know we're gonna die someday Tonio, but I wanna make things clear before that happens. And when that time comes, I want you and everyone else to remember me as someone besides your friend, your henchman, or your brother. I want to be... special to you._

* * *

><p>Antonio wiped a streak of sweat trailing down the side of his face, grinning with satisfaction. He had just finished another honest day's work and he could not have been more pleased with himself. Seeing the rows of fresh tomatoes basking in the sunlight filled him with an unexplainable glee. And he was filled with even greater happiness when he turned around and saw a blushing Italian observing him from a distance.<p>

"Lovi! Where were you? I woke up and you were already gone. You missed breakfast, my little one."

"I'm not _that_ little, bastard," he whined, puffing his cheeks slightly. "I actually went and bought you new clothes."

"What for? I don't see a need for them."

"Do you know how horrible your fashion sense is? I don't want people giving you stifling looks when you stand next to a stylish Italian such as me. You need to look freaking good for our da-... I mean casual outing. Y-Yeah, that's it. A casual outing."

"Casual outing?"

"I've been thinking, Tonio. You're always working so hard, so I thought you needed to relax a little more. And we... Well we haven't spent some quality time in a while. You know, just you and me, and no turtle named Fabio."

Lovino merely blinked and he was already in Antonio's passionate embrace. "Too cute, Lovi! Too cute! I think I'm gonna faint from all the cuteness! I'm touched that you care so much about me, my adorable Lovi. But I feel bad that you had to spend your money. I don't care what people think as long as I'm with you. "

The Italian's face grew redder and he fought back the urge to smile like an excited Elizaveta after stealing a snapshot of Gilbert and Roderich's private moments. "Forget the money, you dumbass. Try to actually exert effort to look handsome at least once. Not saying you're... not handsome... b-because you are. Just saying that... "

"I think you're handsome too, Lovi," Antonio said, cutting off Lovino's statement.

"T-Tell me something I don't know, bastard," the latter managed to say.

He could suddenly feel the Spaniard's hug become tighter—tighter, but more affectionate as well. "You're killing me with the cuteness Lovi! Killing me! So when is our date gonna be?"

"It's tomorrow morning. And don't call it a date, bastard! You make it sound so gay."

"But Lovi, it's perfectly normal for friends to have dates. It's what keeps their friendship intact. I can't wait for tomorrow. I know you're just gonna look absolutely precious!"

_He just had to ruin the moment, didn't he? He just had to mention those two fucking F words that I hate so much. Friends. Friendship. I wish Antonio was dumb enough to not know them._

"Lovi?"

"Uh, yeah. Can't wait too, Tonio. I'll... be going now. Be home by dinner time; I'll be the one cooking tonight." With that, the disheartened Italian slowly walked away.

_I feel like I've just been hit by a certain Hungarian's frying pan..._

**TO BE CONTINUED...**

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><p>*<em>Fratello<em> is Italian for brother. And just in case some of you are not familiar: Elizaveta is Hungary, Roderich is Austria, and Gilbert is Prussia. (And Gilbird is Prussia's bird. LOL)

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><p><strong>Author's Note # 2: <strong>Just so you know, I have zero dating experience (Yes, I'm pathetic like that, and I know I need to get a life) so I have no idea how the next chapters are gonna turn out.

QUICK QUESTION # 2: How do you start a conversation in a date? What do most people talk about? Or what would Spain and Romano most likely talk about? I really need help with this one. :)


	5. Love and Lizzy

**Author's Note # 1: **Yeah, this note is gonna be a little long coz I surprisingly have so much to say. Hahaha, shoot me for being so talkative. *shot*

Being in college isn't helping me update any faster. Oh well... And researching about places in Spain wasn't as easy as I thought. But at least I made their date a little more authentic. (And sorry if I get any of the names or info wrong; the internet isn't 100% reliable.)

Since I have zero inspiration for writing Fairy Tail fics at the moment, I'm taking out my frustration on Hetalia. So I went and made another fic. Please check it out if you have time. XD

And just for randomness, I think I just developed a crush on a certain Hungary. I blame fanart for making her so cute. Kesesese~ (Hell, why did use Prussia's laugh? Oh, I know why... O.o)

Okay, back to the story. Descriptions of the places are inspired by Wikipedia and some other random sites. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Part 5: <strong>Love and Lizzy

"What do you mean you can't come out? Did your brain forget how to turn a doorknob?"

"B-But Lovi... I'm not used to wearing something like this. Can't I wear something... normal?" Antonio answered from the other side of the locked door.

"Damn it! Quit acting like you just wore a mini skirt for the first time."

"That's not really..."

"I know, I know. Stupid simile, I get it. Just come out already, bastard."

"But..."

"You can wear a sexy matador outfit just fine but you get all conscious when I ask you to wear something elegant? Geez, Tonio..."

Lovino's jaw dropped when the door slowly flung open and revealed an uncharacteristically fidgety Spaniard.

"You think my matador outfits are... sexy?" he asked in a more timid tone than usual.

Words failed Lovino as he continued to gawk at the Spaniard. Antonio was clad in a formfitting red pinstripe shirt topped with a stylish black vest. He wore a pair of black slacks that hugged the contours of his muscular legs and black suede shoes with yellow accents. His usually tousled hair was slicked to one side, revealing more of his handsome features. Not to be outdone, Lovino sported a white blazer over a black shirt, slacks similar to Antonio's but less formfitting, and classy dress shoes.

"Uh, Lovi?"

"What?"

"How do I look?"

"_Caliente..._"

Realizing what he just said, Lovino quickly placed a hand over his mouth and tried to hide his embarrassment. Antonio, caught off guard by the boy's statement, felt his face becoming flushed and gave a terse chuckle.

"Easy on the compliments, Lovi; you're making Boss blush," Antonio teased, gently drawing the flustered boy into his arms.

Lovino found himself clinging on to him as he buried his face into the Spaniard's chest in a desperate attempt to hide its rosy tint.

"Is _Jefe_'s cute little henchman actually hugging back?"

"Shut up! Just shut up and hug me for as long as you want. When we get outside, I don't want you doing this anymore. Got it, bastard?"

* * *

><p>"Where to, Lovi?" Antonio asked as he closed the hood of his SEAT Altea.<p>

"Barcelona, bastard. We're going to _Parc Güell_ first, then to the _El Born _district_._ After that, let's find a restaurant somewhere in the city. If we still have time, maybe we can pass by the _Magic Fountain of Montjuic_."

"Wow, you really have this trip planned out."

"Shut up! I've… always wanted to visit Barcelona. It's sort of a secret dream of mine."

"I'd be glad to make your dream come true, Lovi."

"Shut up and drive, bastard!" Lovino jeered, looking away as he felt blood rushing to his cheeks again.

_If you really wanna make my dream come true… Never mind._

It was almost noon when they arrived at their first destination: _Parc Güell_. Parc Güell was originally a commercially unsuccessful housing site, eventually being converted into a municipal garden. There are several mosaic artworks within the park, the most notable being the multicolored mosaic dragon at the main entrance. Perhaps the main attraction was the terrace which was surrounded by a long bench shaped like a sea serpent. The view from there was spectacular.

"Hey, Lovi, take a picture of me and that cool dragon thing," a giddy Antonio said as they approached the entrance.

"You're acting like a little boy with a bad case of sugar rush," Lovino grunted.

"You know I don't go to places like this often."

"It's your country, you idiot! You need to get out more."

"I don't need to get out. I'm perfectly happy in the house with you, Lovi."

""S-shut up and say 'cheese' already, dammit."

The Italian was in the process of taking the picture when a large figure slammed into him and sent him crashing to the ground. Antonio quickly ran over to him and helped him to his feet.

"That... hurt, you damn... Huh?" The boy's jaw dropped when he saw who had collided with him. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Trying to get away from two persistent pests," the man replied in a placid, almost monotonous voice. He eyed the boy clinging to his Spanish companion, all the while twirling a vintage pocket watch in his right hand. "I'm sorry, I need to..." he started, the stress showing in his face, but was cut off by a yell that came from the sea of people around them.

"Hey, Roddie! Come back!" the voice had said.

The man's face became grim, his eyes clearly showing hints of unease from behind his glasses. He placed the watch back into his pocket and sighed out loud. "Guess I've been caught," he said.

"Great," Lovino started, "first it was the burger bastard from America and his stupid British boyfriend. Now it's the piano bastard from Austria? Why do I keep running into you guys?"

Roderich casually shrugged off his comment but instantly froze when he felt a hand gently landing on his shoulder.

"Hey, Roddie, I said I was sorry. Come on, running away like a cute little princess in a fairy tale is... Well, it's awesome, but not as awesome as me. And it's also embarrassing, so..."

The Austrian shot the man behind him a deathly glare, prompting him to take a few steps back.

"Hey Gilbert!" a still very much jumpy Antonio suddenly exclaimed. "_Mi amigo_, what brings you to Spain?"

The platinum-haired, red-eyed man turned his attention to the Spaniard and a smile instantly beamed from his pale face. He wrapped an arm around the unsuspecting Austrian's waist, causing him to let out a shrill yelp of surprise.

"The awesome me and the prissy princess here are vacationing in Spain for a few days. Kesesese~"

The German's trademark cackling made Lovino cringe. "Is everyone having a date in Spain? I'll be damned if we suddenly run into..."

"There you are!"

Roderich's composure completely shattered when a woman's voice echoed throughout the bustling park.

"Gilbert, please tell me that wasn't..."

"I wish I could, Roddie. That would be awesome but I think it really is..."

A flash of light and a click from a shutter came their way. The four men turned towards the direction of the light and found a familiar woman wearing a rather wide grin on her face and holding a Polaroid camera in her hands. She snickered and winked at the panicky Austrian.

"Elizaveta! I told you not to take stolen photographs of me and this..."

"..._awesome_ hunk of a guy! Kesesese~" Gilbert said, finishing Roderich's statement himself and receiving a light punch on his shoulder. "Hey Lizzy, don't forget to send me some copies, 'kay? And add some of those pictures of Roddie in his girly nightgown."

"Will do, Gilbo," the Hungarian happily replied.

"It's not a nightgown, you... Wait, you take pictures of me... sleeping?"

Elizaveta's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Of course! What else do you think I do when I can't sleep at night? Have a nice chit-chat with Lili on the phone? No, Vash will kill me if I kept her up that late."

"I demand that you give those pictures to me!" Roderich sternly said, only to be met with another flash of light.

"Sorry Roderich," she jeered, "but acting cute won't help you here."

They saw the Austrian's face turn different shades of crimson before he turned around and made a mad dash through the crowd of people.

"Not awesome. He still thinks we're re-enacting 'Runaway Bride'? Roddie watches too many movies," the albino whined.

"After her! I mean... him," Elizaveta exclaimed as they rushed off to chase after him.

Having faded into the background during the trio's conversation, Antonio and Lovino felt relief wash over them as they were finally alone again. Antonio smiled nervously at the still confused Italian.

"Spain sure is attracting a lot of tourists, eh Lovi?"

"I guess that's good. With its fucked up economy and stuff, it needs all the tourists it can get."

"So Lovi, how about that picture?"

"U-Uh, yeah. Go stand over there and look pretty."

Once again, it took a while for Lovino to process what he actually said. A blush appeared on his face and he mentally cursed himself for his "poor" choice of words.

_This day's just getting started, Lovino. Pull yourself together..._

**TO BE CONTINUED...**

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note # 2: <strong>First, thank you to **shoujolovesUSUK **for making me laugh. A few minutes before uploading this chapter, she sent me a pm asking me why I haven't updated yet. Seriously, that was a funny coincidence. And gosh I hate school for barely giving me time for fics. XD

Uh, yeah. Sorry, couldn't resist adding that silly threesome there. (And they're not the last nations Tonio and Lovi will encounter.)

And sorry for the "fucked up economy" comment that Lovi made. I have no idea what kind of economy the country of passion has. I just wanted Lovi to be mean as always. *shot again*

Again, thank you all for reading and supporting this story. :)


	6. Love and Legends

**Romano:** I fucking hate you, you bastard.

**Me:** Eh? Why? Coz I keep getting in the way of your romantic moments with Spain by inserting random nations into the plot?

**Romano:** That's right. Can't you go for a more straightforward approach with this story?

**Me:** If I did that, you'd die from embarrassment.

**Romano:** ...

**Me:** Don't worry your cute little head, Roma. After I'm done with you two, you're gonna be thanking me for this roundabout way of narrating.

**Romano:** We'll see, bastard.

**Me:** Indeed. (Turns to readers) This next chapter's gonna be interesting. Lovi actually ends up helping two nations come to terms with their feelings. Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Part 6: <strong>Love and Legends

"Just a few more stops and I'll have to say it," Lovino murmured to himself. He leaned back against the bench and lazily gazed at the sky, spellbound by the misty cross between cyan and azure. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. His heart was racing—a tempo that would otherwise be dangerous had he not become accustomed to it a long time ago. Hysteria of the heart, as he was fond of calling it, had become his emotions' theme song. That day, however, would have to be the last time he'd listen to it.

_After this day, I hope this stupid organ of mine can finally take it slowly. Just three words... I just need three words to..._

His thoughts were interrupted when he felt something climb on top of him. He opened his eyes and was greeted by two topaz orbs staring blankly at him. A slender white body with streaks of orange, a long whip-like tail that playfully fluttered about, tiny paws lightly grazing its head—a cat had jumped onto his lap. Lovino gently picked it up and cradled it in his arms. The feline lovingly nuzzled his head against his chest in return.

"What's a cute little cat like you doing here?" he asked, as if expecting the animal to answer. The cat merely purred in response.

_Geez, what's taking Antonio so long? It's been ages since he left for the bathroom._

"Come on, little guy. Let's go look for Tonio. Knowing the idiot, he probably got himself lost."

He cautiously waded through the sea of people, making quick glances here and there in an attempt to find the Spaniard. He was too intent on finding Antonio that he failed to notice the figure coming within proximity. A loud thud could be heard and both men fell on their backs, the cat squirming as Lovino's grip impulsively tightened.

"Ow! That's the second time I ran into someone today. Hey, look..." His eyes suddenly grew wide and he was rendered speechless when a flash of white passed his face. The Italian trembled with fear at the sight of the familiar mask.

"Sorry, kid. You alright?" the masked figure said in a raspy voice, extending his gloved hand as an offer to help the boy to his feet.

"I-It's okay. I... wasn't looking where I was going. S-Sorry..." Lovino hesitantly clasped his hand and tried to get up despite his shaky knees.

The man took off his mask and gave him a confused look. His face was more mellow and indifferent than Lovino had expected it to be. "Why are you so scared, kid? I won't eat you," he teased snidely.

The cat tensed and glared at him, its fur noticeably rising. Lovino desperately tried to calm it down as he nervously chuckled at the man's comment. "It's just that... I wasn't expecting to see you in a place like this."

A small smile played on the man's lips. "I was actually going to meet up with someone, but I can't seem to find him anywhere."

Lovino winced when the cat suddenly scratched his hand and ran off. "Hey, wait! You..." He turned to guy and gave him an apologetic look. "Um, good luck with finding him. I got to go now... M-Mr. Sadik." He didn't even wait for a response and simply scrambled to chase after the animal.

Watching the frightened boy scurry away like that made the tan-skinned Turk laugh out loud. "Lovino Vargas... So you still remember me, eh? Then I guess I can't blame you for being so scared."

* * *

><p>He wanted to focus on chasing after the cat but images from the past kept tugging at his thoughts. He could still remember it clearly. He recalled how the Turk had effortlessly captured him and how Antonio was plunged into poverty just so he would be released. That encounter had proven just how dependent he was on the Spaniard. It shattered Lovino's already fragile self-esteem.<p>

_Shit! Arthur, Gilbert, Francis, Ludwig, even Ivan or Natalya... I could've run into any of those idiots. But no, I had to run into _that_ scary bastard. Shit!_

He let out a piercing cry when he felt two large hands brusquely grabbing his shoulders and pulling him towards a proportionally large torso. The same hands callously spun him around, forcing him to look up and make eye contact with his captor.

"Calm down, kid. I'm not going to hurt you," Sadik reassured him. As proof, he released Lovino and bowed his head in apology. The confused, but still very much terrified, Italian did not know what to make of the gesture. He simply stood there, his fingers digging into the fabric of his pants.

Sensing the boy's anxiety, Sadik loosened up and flashed a smile at him. He placed his hand on the boy's head and lightly dishevelled his hair. The Turk opened his mouth to speak but suddenly froze when his eyes beheld a familiar sight.

"No wonder Eros was so edgy. It would take someone like _you_ to scare my friend that much," a male voice spoke.

Lovino spun on his heels and saw a rather disgruntled Heracles, cradling the same white and orange cat in his arms. His teal shirt and khaki pants hugged the outline of his physique and a brown jacket was draped around his waist. His cavalier boots and steel-accented cap glimmered in the sunlight.

"So you _did _come after all," Sadik commented.

"It was the only way to get you to stop flooding my phone with messages," the Greek retorted in an uncharacteristically irate tone.

"Come now, don't be so fickle, you brat."

"I'll stop being fickle when you stop being ugly! Do us both a favor and put the mask back on."

"Not before I cut out that rude tongue of yours!"

"I'm sure you didn't get me to come all the way here just so you can start another fight. What do you want?"

The Turk went red in the face and made a futile attempt to hide his embarrassment behind his mask. Giving up on the idea, he hesitantly met Heracles' gaze and cleared his throat. "Well... I just... wanted to see you, brat."

"You... wanted to see me?"

All of a sudden, the sound of Lovino's laughter filled the air. "Oh, come on! That's... the lamest excuse I've ever heard."

Sadik glared daggers at the Italian, but the boy was too busy laughing to even pay attention to him. Heracles' expression changed from annoyed to confused almost instantly.

"To think I was so fucking scared of you," Lovino continued, "but it turns out you're just a lovesick loser like me! Wait, that sounded better in my head..."

"What are you talking about?" Sadik snapped.

"Just come clean, old man. You totally have the hots for this lazy, cat-loving bastard. It's written all over your blushing face!"

"If you know what's good for you, you'll stop talking." The Turk's aura had become noticeably darker.

"What happened to the whole 'I won't hurt you' bit?"

"That was before you started acting like an immature..."

"Actually, the immature ones are you two," Lovino sternly declared. "It's obvious that you're just trying to cover up your feelings with your stupid bickering. Seriously, lovers' quarrels are cute and everything, but don't you think you guys are a little too old for that?"

Heracles snorted and shot a menacing look at Lovi. "Are you implying that I like him?"

"Sure am, Cat Boy. I've been in Europe long enough to know about the two of you. You guys are always arguing, but I think you're just using that as an excuse to spend time with each other."

The Greek was about to deny it when he was cut off by Sadik's hearty chuckle. "Well, isn't this a surprise? You actually saw through that?"

"Anyone with eyes can see through that pathetic display," Lovino sneered.

Heracles fell quiet, refusing to make eye contact with the Turk. The cat, the one he referred to as Eros, wriggled out of his arms and slowly made his way towards Sadik. The older man bent over and affectionately stroked the back of its head, eliciting a deep purr.

"Nice cat you got here," Sadik remarked.

"T-Thanks," Heracles shyly replied.

"I'm going to leave you two alone now. Hey Cat Boy, you might wanna trim your friend's nails. They fucking hurt."

"Eros scratched you?"

"You bet he did. I got the marks to prove them." Lovino held out his hand to show the cat-lover where Eros had lashed him.

"I guess he likes you. You just received the God of Love's blessing, Lovino."

* * *

><p>Lovino eventually found Antonio near the entrance, his face clearly marked with worry. Upon seeing the approaching Italian, he quickly went for a tackle and trapped the boy in a tight hug.<p>

"Lovi, where have you been? Boss was worried that you got lost."

"Normally I would say 'Dammit, I should be the one saying that' but I'll let it pass this time. Let's go, Tonio."

Antonio broke the hug and took a few steps back, puzzled by the boy's unusually positive mood. Lovino grabbed his hand and pulled him into a sprint towards the car.

"L-Lovi, slow down! Why are you suddenly so... energetic?"

"Let's just say I've been blessed by the God of Love, bastard."

"Huh?"

"Just hurry up already or I'm going to _El Born _district without you."

_If it's one thing I learned from this visit to Parc Guell, it's that there's no point in hiding. They may treat you like a sissy princess, chase you around with a camera, or annoy the hell out of you with corny insults... but in the end, the person you love is still the person you love. So I won't even waste my time denying or running away anymore. By the end of this day, Antonio will have finally known how I truly feel._

**TO BE CONTINUED...**

* * *

><p>*Eros (or more popularly known by his Roman name Cupid) is the God of Love in Greek Mythology.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Yeah, I just wanted to try a different intro for this chapter. Excuse the randomness. XD

I hope everyone wasn't too OOC in this part. I know Greece is supposed to be more easy-going, and I just know that Turkey's not supposed to act all flustered like that, but their fights tend to show a different side of them (or at least in my head canon they do). I don't really know their characters too much so... Yeah.


	7. Love and Lingering Emotions

**Author's Note: **I'm giving the other nations a break from interrupting their date (but there is a mention of England, Belgium, Austria, Hungary, and Netherlands here, referring to Antonio and Lovino's past). Awkwardness dissolves, memories flood in, and true feelings come out. A pirate's life comes to an end and a lover is born from his legacy. I might have tweaked their past a little (coz this is not exactly how things went) so don't be surprised if something unexpected comes up. XD

This chapter's a little serious but I hope you guys still like it. Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>PART 7:<strong> Love and Lingering Emotions

During the medieval times, _Passieg Del Born_ was Barcelona's main square where thousands of people flocked to enjoy just about anything. From jousting competitions to public burnings, they had it all. Overlooking the main square was the _Mercot Del Born_, a huge market that not only made the district the social heart of the city, but the center of business as well. All things considered, that was the place to be during those times. Fast forward a few hundred years and you take in a completely different view. Locals no longer lusted for the scent of charred blood at a public burning, the knights have safely tucked away their armor and lances, and market trade has long since stopped. Despite the changes, Born has established itself as the home of some of Barcelona's trendiest bars, shops, and restaurants.

"This place just oozes charisma," Lovino said, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face and beaming a shy smile at the Spaniard. "Kinda like you, Tonio."

"D-Don't flatter me too much, Lovi."

"I wouldn't dream of it, bastard." He wrapped an arm around Antonio's and gently pulled him through the slender lanes. "Come on, don't just stand there like the idiot you are."

_I'm on fucking fire! Antonio won't know what hit him. I just need to keep this confidence up and everything should go smoothly._

"Hey, Lovi."

"Hm?"

"Boss is so glad you're enjoying yourself! I almost never get to see you smile like this. Ah yes, a happy Lovi is a cute Lovi," Antonio chuckled, pinching the boy's flustered cheeks.

"S-Shut up and walk, dammit!" He forced a scowl to hide the large grin that was threatening to rip through his flushed face. At the corner of his eye, he could have sworn he saw Antonio blushing as well.

_Dammit, you smooth-talking bastard. Don't mess up my momentum with your stupid, sweet comments..._

In Born, there was no need to pay an entrance fee to a museum to see some artwork—it was everywhere. Even with one eye closed, there was no way of missing the graffiti etched into the wooden doorways and brick walls of the district's winding alleys. It might be vandalism. It might be art. The judgement ultimately lies in the eyes of the beholder, but the true work of art for Lovino was that very moment. There they were, blending in with the hodgepodge of paintings and the smorgasbord of couples making their way through the busy streets. He smiled at the thought of not standing out, of not being paranoid that people were covertly watching and criticizing them. He could cut loose and enjoy his "date" as much as he wanted. And so he did, shifting closer to the man beside him and instinctively intertwining his fingers with the Spaniard's. Antonio gave him a quick, confused glance but immediately brushed off any intention of making the boy aware of his actions. He did not mind holding hands with him like that. He might have actually liked it. When was the last time the boy had been this honest, this comfortable, with him? If memory served him right, it was the night he returned from England.

"_Hey bastard, where do people go when they die?" a timid little Lovino asked, all garbed in his tiny maid outfit._

"_When they... die? Why do you want to know that, my little Lovi?" Antonio picked the boy up and set him down on his lap._

"_Cause... I wanna know where to look for you when that day comes," he said, his cheeks radiating a faint redness._

_The Spaniard felt a flurry of emotions sweep over him. He was touched that his henchman wanted to be with him even beyond death, but felt sad at the same time as he did not want to be thinking of dying. He felt the boy lightly grazing his bandaged arm with his tiny fingers, a look of genuine concern in his innocent eyes. He never intended to cry; he never wanted the boy to see him so weak, but his words stirred up his heart so much that he felt his emotional barrier slowly falling to pieces. Antonio wrapped his arms around him, giving up the struggle and letting the tears run freely down his face. Surprisingly enough, the boy hugged him back._

"_Why are you crying?" Lovino asked._

"_Boss is... just... Lovino, don't ever leave me, alright? Promise me you'll always stay with Boss. I don't want to lose you like I lost your big Belgian sister and your big brother from Netherlands. And please... take care of Boss."_

"_Take care of you? I can barely take care of myself and you expect me to..."_

"_Just be there for me, Lovi. You may not know it, but Boss needs you now more than ever."_

_There was only silence for a little while. Then the boy took his apron and wiped away the stream of tears flowing from Antonio's eyes. He clasped his tiny hands together, slowly opened them up again, extending his arms as he did, and said:_

"_Fusosososo~ Fuck this, fusosososo~"_

_Antonio looked at him wide-eyed, and then his lips curled into a smile as he hugged the boy even tighter._

"_Hey, I did that embarrassing charm, bastard, so cheer up already..."_

"_L-Lovi..." he mumbled, fresh tears forming in the corners of his eyes._

"_Why are you crying again? Hey, Tonio... Tonio..."_

"Tonio... Hey, Tonio! Bastard, snap out of it!"

Antonio spiralled back to reality and found himself standing in front of a vintage-looking doorway, several people looking their way. Lovino's fingers dug into shoulders, and his eyes had the sullen sheen of concern in them. The Italian's features slowly sunk in, one by one. He was all grown up now—no longer the innocent child from his flashback.

"Antonio... Tell me you're okay, dammit..." he heard him plead, his voice shaky and lined with fear.

"I'm... fine, Lovi. I was just thinking of something," he said, a nervous chuckle following shortly after.

"And just what were you thinking of, hm?"

"I was thinking of... Arthur! That's right, Arthur..."

"W-What?" Lovino's eyes flared up with confusion and he pointed a finger at him in disbelief. "You were thinking about that... pair of eyebrows turned human?"

"I guess so..."

"You guess so? Why, dammit, why? Why in the world would you be thinking about him when you're with..."

"Calm down, Lovi. You're acting like a jealous lover."

"Am not! I don't care about you or that scone-loving freak of nature."

Antonio brushed away the stray strands of the Italian's hair and let his fingers trail down his cheek. "You... don't care about me, Lovi? That kinda... hurts, you know."

Lovino froze, his face relaxing into an expression of guilt. He saw the unusual glint of sadness in the Spaniard's eyes, the unsettling way his lips were formed into a frown. He took it all in for a moment before mustering up the courage to speak.

"I didn't mean that, and both of us know it. What's wrong, Tonio? You're not usually the dramatic type."

"I'm sorry, Lovi. Like I said, I was just thinking of... Arthur."

Lovino had been with Antonio long enough to know that the name Arthur Kirkland was nothing more than a euphemism for his days as a feared pirate. He had been but a mere child when Antonio would often leave the house to go and pillage other nations. His "boss" would return, drenched in the foul scent of blood, and act like nothing happened. He knew what the man had been doing, but he was in no position to object. So he went along with Antonio's ruse, pretending to live out happy days, until one night when he did not return.

"_Go to bed, Lovino, and he'll be back when you wake up," Antonio's Belgian lackey had said._

_Not wanting to argue with the woman, Lovino did as she told. But Antonio did not return the following morning. He did not return for months. One by one, the servants in Antonio's house started disappearing. Thinking that Antonio had abandoned all of them, he actually considered running away and moving in with his younger brother Feliciano, who was then under the care of Roderich and Elizaveta. But he did not. He was helpless on his own, and leaving the house would only get him in trouble—much like how Sadik had captured him when he foolishly tried to go back to Italy on his own._

"_That bastard will return. He promised he'd always take care of me. I don't care how long it takes; I'll wait for him," he told himself._

_Somehow, he managed to learn how to cook, do the laundry, clean the house, and a myriad of other chores he previously failed in. The unspoken wish of seeing the Spaniard walk through that door again kept him going. And he did. One day, as he was preparing another lonely breakfast—all the other servants by that time had already left—a bloody and battered Antonio came barging through the door and collapsed shortly after. One could only imagine the muddle of happiness, horror, and sorrow that welled up in the boy's heart. Somehow, he had bandaged his wounds and helped him into a chair. He acted completely out of character when the man woke up. Instead of lashing out at him with expletives and accusations, he had asked a naive question._

"_Where do people go when they die?"_

And the rest was a blur.

"_Lo siento.._. Boss has gone and wiped that beautiful smile off your face."

"Don't sweat it, bastard. And besides... if it wasn't for that damn Arthur, you wouldn't be the lovable goofball you are now. So I guess I should thank him for beating the crap out of you."

"Lovi, that's so mean..."

"Uh, yeah... That one came out wrong, didn't it? Whatever, you know what I mean."

Antonio answered with a simple nod and a sheepish smile. He had no idea why the past suddenly decided to show itself again, but he figured it probably wanted him to realize something. Something important, no doubt.

_Promise me you'll always stay with Boss..._

"We've been standing in front of this shop for a while now. Don't you think we should head inside?" the Spaniard suggested.

_I don't care how long it takes; I'll wait for him..._

"Sure. Let's see if we can find something for Feliciano and that macho potato boyfriend of his."

"How sweet of you, Lovi. Looks like you and Ludwig are finally going to get along."

"Shut the fuck up, idiot! It's the least we can do for them after they agreed to watch over the house while we're gone."

**TO BE CONTINUED...**

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><p>* <em>Lo siento<em> means I'm sorry. And to those who are confused: Spain was once an extremely powerful nation and it colonized several other countries (my own country, the Philippines, was one of them). However, there came a time (during the Elizabethan era, I think) when England and Spain engaged each other in war and Spain's armada ultimately lost. Some fans depict that as Arthur locking Antonio up after his defeat and exposing him to all kinds of torture. I actually forgot why Spain was eventually released, but whatever. XD


	8. Love and Lip Service

**Author's Note: **Wow, that was one long hiatus. Sorry! School plus writer's block is a terrible combination, don't try it. But I'm back, and I'll try to update more quickly and maybe even throw in a few new stories.

I read the reviews you guys left for the last chapter and I just have two words: THANK YOU! You guys really know how to make someone smile. (With all the craziness in my life right now, thank you for the smiles. XD)

I think Antonio + Booze + Suggestive "Quotation-Marked" Title speaks for itself. A strange way of looking into Antonio's true feelings. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>PART 8: <strong>Love and "Lip Service"

The sun had shied away, but the moon had not yet made her glamorous entrance. The sky was the perfect blend of soft amber and deep blue, with the first few stars coming up from behind the backdrop of hues. They casually walked under that vibrant palette, Lovino sporting a coy smile on his slightly crimson face as his eyes made repeated glances at their intertwined hands. A glint of silver can be seen peeking from behind the collar of Lovino's shirt. Antonio had insisted on buying a necklace for him as a remembrance of that day. The embarrassed Italian had obviously tried to persuade him otherwise but gave in when two muscular arms wrapped themselves around him and fastened the accessory on his neck. A few whispers and breathless replies later, the silver rose emblem hanging so close to his heart was officially for keeps.

_Damn his make-me-wanna-faint-from-the-sexiness voice,_ Lovino internally grunted.

They slipped in between the labyrinth of stone walls and cobbled streets, and chanced upon a contemporary-looking bar-slash-restaurant. An infectious soundtrack seeped through from inside and Antonio's eyes said it all.

He mumbled something to himself then turned to the boy. "Hey Lovi, you hungry?"

One step inside and they were bathed in candlelight. The illuminated walls gave off a sense of warmth in contrast to the cool and chic atmosphere that the bar had—a kind of thing that had to be felt to be believed. The place achieved a sense of "old meets new" with the vintage stone walls and medieval vaulted ceiling adorning the central area. An employee, one could assume she was a waitress, cheerfully greeted them in Spanish and led them to a vacant table. The pair gave an amused chuckle as they sank into the soft cushioned seats.

"This place is amazing, isn't it Lovi?"

"Yeah, but there's one thing that creeps me out though."

"Hmm? What?"

"That," Lovino said, pointing to the mess of red cushioned beds lined up on the far side of the room. "Why do they have beds here? Gives the wrong vibe, if you know what I mean..."

The Spaniard suddenly broke into a fit of soft giggles, much to Lovino's chagrin.

"What's so funny, dammit?" he snapped, cocking an eyebrow.

"You naughty boy," Antonio teased. "This place looks wholesome enough, so I doubt the beds are used for anything but good, hearty fun."

He was unaware that the night would turn out to be far from _wholesome_ or _hearty_. Dinner had been the typical scenario: casual conversation while enjoying good food. But then Antonio got carried away with the drinks, ignoring Lovino's banter about ordering only a few cocktails. He downed several glasses of a suspicious-looking liquid, something Lovino decided he would rather not know the contents of, and his face began to grow flustered.

"Hey, I think you've had enough," Lovino said, his voice a mix of compassion and authority as he 'scoldingly' waved a fork at the man in front of him.

"Just a little more, Lovi. It's been a long time since I've had any," the clearly _no longer sober_ Antonio wheezed.

"That's more of a reason to stop, idiot!" He quickly snatched the glass and stared spitefully at its contents. "You can't handle alcohol like you used to, so..."

His words were cut short when an unusual warmth took over his mouth, sending his wits on an impromptu trip to some distant land. He tried to push him away but his arms went limp under the wave of pleasure. He held back a moan as he felt something probing inside, seeking entrance as it tried to part his lips. Lovino hesitantly pulled away before the intruder was granted full access. He shot a weak glare at Antonio, his breath coming in gasps.

"W-Why..."

"Coz you wouldn't let me have any. So I'll just have you, Lovi," Antonio declared as he effortlessly swept the boy off his feet and threw him down on the nearest vacant bed.

"Dammit, you intoxicated moron! We're in public, for pasta's sake, so show some decency. Everyone's looking, you know..." Lovino tried his best to hide the overwhelming embarrassment building up inside him.

"I don't care. They're just jealous 'cause they don't have a hot boyfriend like you," he replied, licking his lips as they curled into a devilish grin.

"W-What..? Boy...boyfriend? Has all that alcohol gone to your brain?"

"Oh c'mon Lovi, what else would you call our relationship?" He burst into laughter and collapsed on top of his blushing 'boyfriend'. "I wouldn't mind swinging that way if it's for you, _mi amor_."

"Shit! Get off me, you crazy bastard," cried Lovino in protest.

"Nah, you don't want me to get off, do you?" he insisted, playfully rubbing their bodies together.

The Italian's expression suddenly burned with anger. He mustered all the strength he had to shove Antonio's dead weight off him and stormed out of the building. All eyes fell upon the dumbfounded Spaniard, staring at the door like his sanity had dashed outside as well.

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><p>"That fucking idiot! If I knew he was such a lunatic when he's drunk..." Lovino snorted out loud as he made his way through the crowded streets.<p>

He stopped halfway through that statement when he felt something tugging at his conscience. Somewhere at the back of his mind, the words _mi amor _persistently lingered.

"...I would still probably be in love with the damn bastard," he finished, finding solace in those two words that, though uttered nonchalantly, still felt all too surreal.

A sense of terror overcame him when he failed to recognize the surrounding structures. He had somehow wandered off from any of the landmarks he had carefully pinpointed before the start of their date. A trendy boutique, a homely bakery, a dingy repair shop—he did not know any of them. To make things worse, he felt a faint raindrop graze his cheek. And then more drops followed, like a merciless salvo of bullets.

_Of course it just had to rain. 'Coz the weather is a bitter spaz who has nothing better to do than make my life miserable._

He scrambled down the block and took refuge at a nearby chapel. The building was worn with the years, but one could still appreciate the elegance that the architects had skilfully inlaid in it. There was no one around save for a few small birds flapping their wings in an attempt to dry off. The moon's silver streaks shone through the stained glass above the altar, giving it an eerie but still strangely captivating glow. The only faint light in the building.

_Tonio's probably too out of it to come look for me. I just hope he doesn't cause any more trouble..._

He gently slumped down on one of the pews and let out an exasperated sigh. He was tired. He wanted to see the fountains in _Plaza Espanya_ after dinner, believing that water could make any moment romantic and it would make the perfect setting for a confession, but that seemed like a distant dream now. He was too tired. And too upset.

"Pesky trio running amok, stupid bickering lovers and their God of Love cat, damn Spaniard's mood swings and alcohol-induced insanity..." he ranted then sighed again. "I thought this day would go perfect. Just once, I want something to turn out right. Up and down, good and bad, happy and sad... I'm sick of things going left and right. Just... make up your mind." With that, slumber slowly took hold of him.

"_You still haven't answered my question yet. Where do people go when they die?" a persistent little Lovino pressed on._

_Antonio bent over and gave him a pat on the head. "They go to where they need to be."_

"_Huh? That doesn't make any sense," the boy complained, puffing his cheeks._

"_You're still too young to understand, my little Lovi."_

"_Then tell me..."_

"_Hmm, yes?"_

"_Where do _you_ wanna go, Tonio? Where do you need to be?"_

_Antonio's expression softened into a smile. He stretched out his hand and lightly tapped the boy's chest with his finger. "I don't need to go anywhere, as long as you let me stay in your heart..."_

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><p><strong>TO BE CONTINUED...<strong>


	9. Love and Lovi

**Author's Note: **Wow, I've been gone for so long. Finals are around the corner, and I'm failing two subjects. Wish me luck guys, I need it. T.T

I'M SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG. AND I'M SORRY THIS CHAPTER'S SO PATHETIC AND OBVIOUSLY RUSHED. I REALLY FAIL. This fic's almost finished, so I hope you stick with me till the bitter (no wait, sweet) end.

Lovi and Tonio paint love in every color. Lots of dialogue ahead. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>PART 9<strong>: Love and Lovi

A sliver of sunlight peered through the stained glass and found its mark on the Italian's face.

"Fucking sun… Why do you always… wake me up like this?" he groaned as he struggled to a sitting position. Lovino winced as he noticed something wrapped around his torso. "This is… Tonio's."

He pulled the black cloth free and examined it. Indeed, it was the same jacket Lovino had bought for the Spaniard awhile back. He looked around and noticed someone slumped against the pew across the one he was sitting on. Hair disheveled, shirt wrinkled, face clearly marked with discomfort—but he would have recognized the person even a mile away. He felt a small smile forming on his lips as he clutched the cloth and brought it against his chest.

_What should I do now?_

Their date had gone from bad to worse in a span of one dinner, but he couldn't deny that he was partly at fault. He could have convinced the Spaniard to find another place, hopefully one that does not serve alcohol. If that failed, he could have done a better job of keeping Antonio under control. He could have been sterner. He could have had a little more resolve.

_But no, I just had to melt each time I heard his voice. God, I'm such a…_

"Lovi…?"

His heartbeat froze for a second when he heard his name. He turned his attention to the altar, not wanting to make eye contact. Even when he heard light footsteps making their way towards him, his gaze did not waver. Even when a hand reached out and landed on his shoulder, he remained firm. Only when two familiar arms wrapped themselves around his body, and a familiar warmth washed over him, that his resolute façade give way.

"Lovi, I…"

"You're sorry, right? You want me to forgive you, right?" Lovino asked, cutting him off as he turned to look the Spaniard in the eye.

"_Si_…"

"Idiot. You know I'll forgive you, so why are you even bothering? When did I _not_ forgive you? And when did you _not_ forgive _me_?"

"Because I want to let you know how sorry I am. If we went on expecting that the other will always forgive us, we'd never learn anything. I could hurt you all I want and think it's fine 'cause I knew you'd 'forgive' me. So please, Lovi, allow me to say this. I'm really sorry."

Lovino's heart ached when he heard the pained tone of Antonio's voice, and it almost shattered when he saw the equally pained expression on his face. Tiny beads of tears were already forming at the corners of his eyes.

"Don't tell me you're gonna cry, big guy," the Italian sad, trying to lighten the mood. "You _never_ cry. You're too much of a happy-go-lucky goofball."

"You're one of the few people who can make me cry. That's how much power you have over me."

"Power, eh?" Lovino let out a soft giggle as he freed himself from Antonio's embrace. He walked over to the altar, signaling for the other to follow him.

"What is it, Lovi?"Antonio wondered.

"You're right, Tonio. We might come to a point where we can't forgive each other anymore if we callously overlook our mistakes. But, let me assure you now, bastard. There's no way in hell I could stay mad at you."

"Aww, Lovi…"

"Wha-? Stay away from me, you glomping pervert!"

"But…"

"Besides, I'm not done yet."

A dumbfounded Spaniard took a seat on the front pew and watched as Lovino inched closer to the altar. The Italian spun on his heels and crossed his arms in front of his chest. A smile played on his lips as he locked his gaze on Antonio.

"Hey," he began,"being in this church is kinda ironic."

"Why's that?"

"I always pictured myself getting married in a place like this someday." His cheeks were tinted with a rosy hue.

"Hmm, really now? And who's the lucky bride?" Antonio sneered, a mischievous grin etched on his face.

"B-Bride? Uh,well… it's not really a bride…" Lovino's face flared up into an even brighter shade of red.

"Not a bride? So, is it a guy or something? After telling me that much, you shouldn't be shy anymore. C'mon, my little Lovi, nothing's gonna change between us even if I find out you like guys."

"Uh, well… Dammit, I'm just gonna get it over with. It's… It's… It's you, you fucking bastard! I…"

"You've been thinking about the same things as me?"

"Yes, I've… Wait, what?" His eyes grew wide at the sudden realization.

"Where do people go when they die? You asked me that question when you were a kid. Do you remember my answer, Lovi?"

"You said they went where they needed to go. And you said you don't need to go anywhere as long as…"

"As long as you let me stay in your heart. You were probably still too young to realize back then, but I've always been fond of you. I would always try to imagine you growing up into a fine young man, and someday we'd…"

Silence fell upon them, and only brief bouts of exchanging glances followed. It continued for several more minutes before the Italian's lack of patience got to him.

"Someday we'd what? Spit it out bastard! I'm not getting any younger!"

"Like you said, someday we'd get married, my dear Lovi. That's because I love you in every sense of the word. _Te quiero, __je t'aime, kimi o ai shiteru, ich liebe dich, wo ai ni, ti amo—_it doesn't matter which language I use, words could never fully express how I feel."

A brief stint of silence once again ensued before being broken by the Italian's loud fit of laughter.

Antonio looked utterly puzzled at the unexpected reaction. "What's so funny?"

"You, bastard. God, you look so damn serious and sound so damn cheesy! Have I ever told you how you suck at pulling off 'serious'? And I wonder how long it took you to memorize all those foreign words."

"Eh? That's mean, Lovi. You ruined the moment! And here Boss was so serious about his confession."

"You're the mean one, Tonio," Lovino replied, his laughter fading into a somber tone.

"H-Huh?"

"You're the mean one," he repeated. "You ruined _my _moment. I was… I was supposed to be the one confessing, you bastard!"

"Huh? Um, uh… I'm so-"

"Shut up! Don't apologize, you idiot! It's my fault. I was so confused I couldn't even see your kindness. It was always 'Damn, Antonio's hot' or 'Shit, I wish he was my boyfriend'. Stupid things thought of by a stupid guy like me. I hate being the one to add the 'too', but I take what I get since you beat me to it. Antonio… I love you, too. I'd say it in every language but I only know Italian, English, and a little Spanish, so sorry."

"Lo-Lovino…"

"Hmm?"

Lovino suddenly found himself being tackled to the floor by an overly emotional Spaniard. "My cute Lovi, you don't know how long I waited to hear that! And that smile you had when you said it, it just oozed cuteness! Boss wants to hug you all day now!"

"Get off me, you perverted bastard! Are you still drunk? Dammit!"

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><p><strong>TO BE CONTINUED...<strong>


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